Bells at Midnight
by Ana-Misa
Summary: Will Briar find peace of mind after his traumatic experience abroad and he returns home to Emelan and the circle of magic? This story was inspired by an excerpt from THE WILL OF THE EMPRESS, on Tamora Pierce's website.


_Author's Notes: This is my first Tamora Pierce fanfic and it was inspired by an excerpt of The Will of the Empress, on Tamora Pierce's website. It's set during the quartet's visit to Empress Berenene of the Namorn Empire and focuses on a scene between Briar and Sandry. Thanks to the Bard for the title and a special "mahalo" to Jenny for beta reading this story._

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"Bells at Midnight" by Ana-Misa

The oppressive heat smothered him as he struggled against the restraints. Cries of terror surrounded him as they mingled with the clanging of the temple's iron bells.

Bolting up from his bedding, he heard the final tolls for midnight from the city's bell tower, far in the distance. A summer breeze danced coolly across his face and the bejeweled sky was clear of flames. Briar Moss found himself on a terrace among his scattered pillows and blankets. He still smelt the smoke and residue of burnt paneling and flesh, but his memory slowly gave way to the heady scent of roses. As his eyes adjusted to the light cast by the full moon, he took several deep breaths to clear his head and banish his nightmare. Gods, would it always be like this?

In the past, darkness was a friend he could rely on to hide his thieving from prying eyes or comfort him with its silence. Alas, now, darkness only brought him haunting images of his time in Gyongxe, in far off Yanjing.

Breathing deeply, he welcomed the scent of roses like old friends. Perhaps the roses sensed his despair and bloomed to flood him with their sweet and pungent perfume. As a plant mage, Briar practiced his craft as a master, but he still wondered how plants responded intuitively to him. Maybe Rosethorn would know the answer to that riddle. Unfortunately, she was in Emelan, many leagues to the south.

Silently he rose from his low platform bed and walked toward the climbing roses along the terrace's banister. The terrace belonged to a suite of rooms that overlooked the eastern gardens of the Namorn Palace. Who would have thought a street rat like me would be an honored guest of her Imperial Highness, Empress Berenene of the Namorn Empire? Briar mused as he admired the moonlit rose garden below him.

From the darkness behind him, he heard the swish of cloth on the slate floor. Briar, out of instinct, dropped into a fighting stance as he released the wrist-blades hidden by the loose sleeves of his dark green shirt.

"Briar, is that you?"

Instantly his body relaxed as he watched her lithe body glide towards him. Her silk, maroon dressing gown barely covered her slippered feet. How strange, thought Briar, there was a time when she wouldn't have bounced or skipped into a room full of energy... and look at her now. Although few years had passed since he last saw her, his experiences abroad aged him beyond their shared childhood at Discipline and the Pebbled Sea.

"You're up late, Lady Sandrilene fa Toren. Does your guardian know you're strolling about at this time of night?" Briar whispered playfully.

Sandry made a rude noise and unsuccessfully attempted to cuff his ear. Effortlessly he dodged her, but he found out too late that it was a ruse. With an uncanny awareness of her surroundings, Sandry maneuvered him towards a wall hanging with long dangling tassels of the finest wool. "Oh, oh."

The moonlight caught Sandry's wolfish grin as the tassels magically searched out Briar's sensitive skin and relentlessly tickled him. Valiantly, he stifled his giggles so as not to disturb those sleeping within the suite. Failing to ward off the woolly tassels, he scrambled away from his tormentors to the terrace's edge.

With a gasp, Sandry reached out and grabbed Briar's arm before he lost his balance and fell into the gardens below. "I'm so sorry," said a pale-faced Sandry.

Briar dropped onto a nearby bench and wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes. He was about to tease her again when he saw her concern reflected in her cornflower blue eyes. "Don't worry, Duchess," said Briar as he reached out to tug her braid. "We street rats are tough to crack." Instead, he brushed a stray lock of hair from her brow. The sun-streaked brown hair and button nose were the same, but he also saw a quiet serenity in her face. Perhaps she learned to disguise her feelings beneath that calm facade from her uncle, Duke Vedris IV, ruler of Emelan.

"Briar, what's wrong?" Sandry asked as she sat next to him on the bench. "I know you don't want to communicate mind to mind like we used to when we were kids. I've respected your wishes, but you seem troubled, ever since you returned to us. I want to help you. Won't you talk to me?"

Briar struggled with his thoughts. If I were honest with myself, I knew she would be the one to ask. I could never really hide things from her anyway, but I don't want her exposed to the horrors I went through. Still, Rosethorn thought I needed to find a way to deal with what's haunting me. He closed his eyes to the starry night and dreaded the return of the nightmares like a beast lurking at the back of his mind.

A cool hand touched a small scar on his right cheek; one of the visible scars that marred him during his time away from Emelan.

"Jasmine," muttered Briar.

"What?" Startled, Sandry withdrew her hand.

"The scent on your hand."

"You sent it to me shortly after you arrived in Yanjing." She was studying Briar intently as she spoke and saw a shadow fall across his features when she named the country in the Far East.

He attempted to turn from her, but she reached out and held his face between her small hands. "Maybe together we can unravel this knot." Her determined voice belied the tender touch of her hands on his face.

His haunted eyes looked into her up-turned face. I'm so tired. Unbidden, another memory of fending off death gave him some hope: she followed me into the darkness to bring Rosethorn back to life, what if...

Briar took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of jasmine on Sandry's hands. Gently he took her hands in his, turned to face her, and accepted her invitation.

"Did you know, blooming night jasmine perfumes the gardens in Yanjing?" His voice eerily disturbed the calm night. "The funny thing is that it couldn't disguise the smells of war when the Yanjing emperor sent his troops to ravage Gyongxe." He kept his eyes downcast, but there was no mistaking the change in his mood. Like marauders streaming through a breach in a besieged castle's wall, he let his bitterness give life to his story.

At first Sandry watched his face, but as his eyes began to glisten with unshed tears she turned her attention to his balled fists and the moving images beneath the skin of his hands.

After a mishap with vegetable dyes, meant to disguise his criminal tattoos, Briar's hands now bore tattoos that looked like living vines, which sprouted flowers and thorns depending on his disposition. As he spoke, Sandry watched Briar's tattoos form interlocking pictures as if reliving Briar's story. Opening up her mind, Sandry called on her weaving magic to draw together the threads of Briar's pain and torment and find a way to mend his battered soul.

Hours went by before they noticed the briefest hint of false dawn on the horizon. They were still seated on the bench; their cheeks wet with tears. As Sandry leaned into Briar's chest to stifle her sobs, he absentmindedly stroked her hair to comfort her.

"I'm sorry," whispered Briar, dismayed by Sandry's reaction. "Maybe I was wrong to burden you like this."

"No." Sandry quickly pulled back to look him straight into his gray-green eyes. "No, you needed this. To carry all you've endured was eating away at you. Like you said, why should the Yanjing emperor claim another victim?"

No longer balled up in fists, she lifted his hands out of his lap. Sandry held up his hands so he could see the fluid movements of his tattoos. "Yes! Plant magic is strong within you." Her right index finger traced furled petals of a rose and its thorns beneath dark green leaves. "You have power in your hands to harm as well as to heal. All you can ask of yourself is to do your best with what is given to you."

The brightening horizon illuminated Sandry's face and Briar didn't see what he feared – disgust or repulsion for what he did in Gyongxe – just her compassion and something else he never noticed before.

"Thank you." Briar said softly, unable to voice the depth of his feelings.

Sandry smiled at him and began to dab away the tears on his face with the sleeve of her dressing gown. "Silk isn't that absorbent." She glanced guiltily at the front of Briar's cotton shirt, soaked with her tears. Oh, my. Noticing how the damp shirt contoured his chest, the rosy tint on her cheeks rivaled the coming dawn. "Perhaps we should get a bit of sleep?" she said hastily in an attempt to change the topic.

"You're probably right," he replied as he reached for her right hand.

The sudden warmth of his touch surprised her into glancing at their clasped hands. She gently squeezed his hand, and then gazed into his green eyes. "Thank you for trusting me, Briar," she said quietly, and then added, "If you ever need me..." Before he knew what to say, she tenderly kissed his lips and disappeared into the shadows of the suite.

When dawn, like fingertips bathed in rosy light, touched the terrace, Briar felt his spirits begin to rise as he witnessed the darkness fleeing from the new day. Although he knew the horrors of Gyongxe weren't completely purged from his soul, he didn't have to face them alone.

She would be there for him.

The End


End file.
